Khajiit Stick Together
by Rush Fire
Summary: In the hostile land of Skyrim, where the civil war and the returning dragons limit possibilities for opportunity, the most unlikely of its residents will pull together and rid the land of the poison that has forced its people against each other. (M for safety)
1. The Invitation

**Hey all you peoples, this is my first Elder scrolls story. Please understand Im not a lore freak and Skyrim was my first elder scrolls game, so the khajiit may not be as lore friendly as I'd like. **

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Vazerek trekked the pathway to Whiterun, hauling as much loot as he could carry. The cuts and bruises hed received from the bandits at Redoran's Retreat slowed him down a bit, but he still managed to lug down nearly seven hundred and fifty pounds of goods he had taken from the area.

As he walked up the trail to Whiterun, he noticed tents set up near one of the stone gates.

_Oh, thank the gods. Ri' saad's here._

Ri' saad was probably the most sympathetic of Vazerek's money issues. He gave him a ten percent discount on all his wares, possibly because the Cathay-Raht warrior was the most loyal shopper, and the only Khajiit one around.

He spotted the trader sitting on a log by the fire with his other affiliates and set one of the three heavy packs from his shoulder to the ground by one of the tents. The audible clunking made them turn their heads.

Ri' saad jumped up from his seat to greet him, "Ah, Vazerek! I was afraid we wouldn't get to see you on this visit to Whiterun." He walked over to him, "Here, allow this one to help you with that. You must be exhausted having carried all of that weight." Va' Zarek knew he meant 'merchandise' but it was still a helpful offer.

Vazerek took a pack from his back and held it out for him by its leather strap. "I don't know, these bags are pretty heavy." He spoke very unusually for a khajiit because of his lesser experience with his own race.

"I insist. You must have worked hard to recover all of that." As Ri' saad took the bag with both hands, Vazerek allowed some of its weight to leave his grasp. The pawnbroker almost strained himself before he took back the weight. "My, my! You carry weight like that of a senche-raht. Are you influenced by the Steed Stone?"

Vazerek set down the other two bags and smirked, "I suppose I may as well be." One would likely imagine the red, lion like khajiit to be a werewolf in disguise, or a feline version of a giant-troll crossbreed. Despite the fact the only training he received was from combat only , he had the build of a juggernaut warrior, with muscles capable of literally sending bears flying across the battlefield and enabling him to outrun saber cats, despite being weighed down by a few hundred pounds of supplies. His lack of muscle atrophy was assumed to be a side effect of his parents decisions to use many alteration spells in their lifetime.

Ri' saad invited the new arrival to enjoy some dinner with his group to which Vazerek happily obliged. He soon found himself sitting amongst the smaller khajiit, enjoying some freshly cooked salmon and alto wine; deep in conversation with Ma'randru-jo. He had taken custom to calling him Dru-jo.

"You seem certainly capable of holding your liquor, Dru-jo," Vazerek said as the other downed the last of his third Alto Wine.

"The Dragonborn is correct. You should slow your drinking before you deplete us of it," Ri' saad agreed, taking another bite out of his chicken.

"Shut your mouth," he slurred, "I know we have…. Much more than this came from."

"Well then, if you're so sure of yourself," Vazerek stood up and walked over to one of his supply sacks, and retrieved a clear glass bottle with a liquid in it that glowed bright green like his eyes. He also grabbed a small shot glass as well before returning to his seat.

Khayla's ears perked in interest, "What is that?"

Vazerek smiled, holding up the bottle. "Argonian Absinthe." It was one of the rarest drinks around, being only available in Black Marsh markets. It was also a very mind altering drink, said to make you see into the realms of Oblivion.

Ri' saad's eyes widened, "Ah, you mean Sheggorath's Surprise."

"Exactly." Vazerek looked to the drunken feline across from him, "So, Dru-jo, think you can handle it?" He popped the cork of the bottle and filled one of the shot glasses, offering it to him.

He didn't even have to ask. Dru-jo stood up, almost losing his balance and walked over to Vazerek. Instead of taking the shot glass, he snatched the bottle from his hand. "_Hic…_ This one can take any drink you can offer." He threw his head back and took a large swig, then fell backward, sprawling onto the ground.

Several seconds passed before he made any sign of remaining life. Khayla nudged him with the tip of her boot, then looked to the others with concern, "Will he be okay?"

Vazerek knelt down by Dru-jo and took the bottle from his hands, examining what little liquid remained in the bottle. Pinching Dru-jo's nose, his physical state became clear when he snorted and shook his head to free his breathing passage. "He's out for the night, but it looks like he's going to be seeing Falmer dancing with fairies for a while." With their competition cancelled, he poured the contents of the shot glass back into its original bottle and returned its cork

As the night continued, the Dragonborn was suddenly alerted of the time by a distant howl of a wolf. He stood up and stretched his back, "Thank you for the food, Ri' saad, but I should probably rent a room at a tavern before all of them get taken."

"Nonsense. It is already well into the night and the taverns are likely full. You may stay here with the caravan. Ri' Saad's group will be here until late tomorrow, and surely you could borrow a spare bedroll."

"As much as I'd like to, Ri' so, I don't want to impose…"

"Time spent with your own people would do you well," encouraged Khayla. She had a good point. Vazerek didn't even speak like most khajiit, instead using Imperial like vocabulary that lacked a Elsweyrian accent. He didn't even know much about his own culture because he was adopted and raised by an imperial family as a kitten. Even more so, his anatomy didn't even fully match that of normal Cathay- Raht, not that anyone in public would notice…

"Alright, Ri' saad. I'll stay for the night."

The night was far from quiet, with Dru-jo mumbling away in his hallucinating state about flying khajiit and talking moss. There was also the singing of the crickets and frogs, and at a certain point Vazerek's keen ears overheard two guards conversing about their travels in their younger days before they both somehow ended up taking arrows to the knee. It was like a bed time story like those he was told as a child, though less enthusiastic. It was at least boring enough to dull his mind into a sleep like state.

Vazerek was rudely awakened by the sudden sound of hooves beating against the ground. There was a conversation going on outside; Ri' Saad was talking to someone about… a party?

Vazerek poked his head out of the tent and saw two men on horseback wearing full sets of Dwemer Armor and had matching shields and spear length swords. There was one other horse without a rider. The assumed rider was speaking to Ri' saad, who was holding a envelope. She was a Bosmer, likely only a few years into her adulthood, and bared leather armor unlike the heavy plating of her acquaintances.

Vazerek rose from the tent, his well muscled figure making an intimidating sight. The four people suddenly shifted their heads toward him like he was a provoked giant.

"Good morning Vazerek. Did the night treat you well?"

"Well enough. What's going on?" No one had ever approached the caravan group with cavalry guards. It was rather unusual that these people would be so diverse from the nations citizens. The guards armor was in pristine condition, shining like waxed golden coins. Such presentation was rare even among nobles, so this group should be here for an important reason.

"It seems this one is rather popular among his people," He said smugly, " Ri' saad and his caravan group have been invited to a khajiit exclusive festivity."

Vazerek relaxed that the group wasn't a threat. "Oh. Does this mean you will be leaving early?"

"Im afraid that is true. But under current circumstances…" Ri' saad looked to the Bosmer girl, "Are guests welcome?" She responded with silence, her eyes locked on Vazerek. Ri' saad raised his voice a little, "Miss?"

She snapped her attention back to the trader and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, what were you asking, Sir?"

Ri' saad smirked. "Are guests welcome to join Ri' saad's group?"

The girl seemed flustered. "Um… Yes. With your approval. You will be held responsible for their actions, however."

He looked to Vazerek with a smile. "And what problems could the Dragonborn cause, of all people?"

Vazerek was cautious. "Who is this individual who is giving out invitations, exactly?"

The Bosmer girl spoke up shyly, "His name is Ri' zedah. He's the owner of the Bronze-Iron Estate." Her speech was quiet, dampened by her obvious intimidation caused by Vazerek.

"I see… Does he throw these parties often?"

She swallowed. "No."

The Dragonborn was skeptical, looking to Ri'saad unsurely, "I don't know… "

"A Dragonborn is not a common person to meet in this world, as unforgiving as it is. It is even less so for a Dragonborn to be a khajiit. Any celebration would be lucky to have such an honor to have that individual partake in the festivities."

Vazerek couldn't argue with such sage words. "Alright. I'll join you."

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**Those who think they have a better idea on how khajiit like Ri' saad speak, plz tell me. If you would like to toss your ideas at me at any time, go ahead as well. This will likely be part one of a mini series. This story will have a lot of mods from the steam and nexus in it. A prime example you just saw was the "spear length swords".**

**PLZ REVIEW OR I MAY DISCONTINUE THIS**


	2. Daedric Dog

**Good news everybody. This is just a prequel to the actual heavy duty story.**

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Anraya was a very loyal follower of Ri' zedah. She thought of him almost like a father, and had trusted him with her very life ever since she began working for him as a courier during her late teenage years. However, was always incredibly cautious when going to send a letter or retrieve one. Her contact was always described for her in detail, and if possible, she would try to get a painting of their appearance. If the description didn't connect accurately with the individual described, shed report back to her boss.

It was for this reason, she didn't enjoy communing with people she wasn't explicitly ordered to retrieve. The very same reason she sat across from the alleged Dragonborn, nearly trembling in her boots out of fear.

When he first left his tent back at Whiterun, she thought he was a werewolf at first, having seen him out of the corner of her eye. She could tell from his shirtless form that the khajiit would definitely qualify for a vagur werewolf in terms of strength. He could wipe out her whole convoy if he wanted to.

If he was any shorter, though, she would find him more intriguing over intimidating. Those eyes appeared to be imbued with the power of the divines, and a warrior with a build like that would surely know a trick or two about training.

Unfortunately, without any knowledge about him, her irrational fear forced her to keep silent.

The group was led to the carriage outside of Whiterun, fully rented out for Ri' zedah's purposes. As a guard of the caravan, Khayla took responsibility of Anraya's mount, much to the wood elf's dismay. The Dwemer gaurds split and covered the front and rear of the carriage, while Khayla covered the rear of the whole convoy. With five people, the sitting space was rather crowded, considering the three large supply bags between them. For a while, there was little speaking other than the singing of Bjorlam and the mumblings of the still unconscious Dru-jo.

A high pitched shriek was heard from the sky, and Anraya looked up and smiled. She opened a pouch on her thigh and pulled out a small thin flute. It appeared to be carved from wood, but its white tint made it look like bone. It had a word etched into the side, but her hand blocked most of it from view.

Vazerek cocked his head curiously at it. "You play an instrument?"

"A little." She said quietly. She put the flute to her lips for a moment and the device released a high pitched whistle, similar to the one heard from the sky. She looked back upward and quickly put the flute away.

Vazerek looked in the direction of the sky, and was rather surprised at what he saw. A hawk was descending down to the ground. It was an unusual sight, considering the birds preferred avoiding humans in the safety of the sky. It was even more unusual, even shocking, when the hawk landed on the awaiting arm of the bosmer girl.

Ri' saad was wide eyed. "This one has yet to see a hawk, so wild and free in nature, tamed by the hands of an elf."

"I know. First dragons, and now this. Next thing we know Falmers _really will_ start dancing with fairies," Vazerek agreed, smirking at Dru-jo.

Anraya opened a small sack hooked to her belt as the hawk made itself comfortable on her arm. She removed three small brown balls and held them out in her palm in front of the bird. It eagerly gobbled them up.

"What are those?" Vazerek asked. The bird seemed to lighten her mood, so he assumed this would be a good time to try and talk to her.

"Pretzel balls. They're her favorite snack." She drew her eyes from the hawk and locked eyes with the lion. She blushed for a moment and returned her attention back to the hawk. She removed a small scrolled paper from a cuff on its leg as the bird preened itself.

Struggling with communication, he continued to try for small talk. "Whats her name?"

Anraya raised an eyebrow and looked back at him, confused. "Idhaari," she answered, opening the scroll at letting her eyes screen over it.

"That sounds like a khajiit name. Did you give it to her?"

"No. Ri' zedah gave it to her," she answered. "Ri' saad, the rest of your caravan will meet us at the ship in Solitude."

Ri' saad smiled. "Thank you, miss… This one apologizes, what is your name?"

"Anraya. Thank you for asking," She answered. She allowed Idhaari to perch herself atop her shoulder, before looking down at her hands, away from the Dragonborn.

Vazerek sighed, beginning to get irritated at her evasion of him. "Look, Anraya, I…"

Vazerek's words were stalled as the carriage suddenly stopped, followed by the sudden rearing of one of the guards horses in the front. The dwemer armored soldiers drew their spear-swords and prepared their shields, while the rest of the group began to panic. Idhaari shrieked and flew off

"What's going on?" Vazerek questioned aloud. They had stopped somewhere in the Northshore, and the surrounding woodland made flanking obviously possible. He stood up and jumped out of the carriage, setting a hand on his orcish great sword for safety. It was the closest thing to a longsword he could get because of his size, so it would have to do.

Khajiit ears perked up as low growls could be heard from the brush. _Wolves,_ Vazerek thought, unsheathing his blade and rolling his shoulders to prepare for a quick exercise. His assumption was corrected as a pitch black creature charged towards him, baring the physical resemblance of a wolf. Mostly. It had no tail to speak of, glaring red eyes, long, nail like teeth and a caved in nose that seemed like it had a previous one that had been removed.

Regardless of how ugly it was, the lion warrior didn't even bother to swing his sword. Instead, he smashed his left fist against its head as it leaped towards him, indenting the skull as the force knocked it several yards away. It landed, rolling like a rag doll and then finally stopping on its side.

Anraya stood up in the carriage, leaning over the side to try and get a better view of the creature. "What in the void is _that?"_

Before anyone had time to answer, a yell caught their attention.

A robed man had jumped out from his hiding spot in the brush and was running towards them. "_Die mortals!" _The man's hands lit up, one with electricity arcing between his fingers and the other with glowing orbs of red light. Whipping one hand toward the front guard, a flash of lightning flew towards him, hitting his shield. The horse seemed more effected by the attack than the rider, rearing in pained panic and forcing the guard off the saddle.

The robed man chose his target as it was vulnerable. Joined by a woman that had revealed herself from the rocks, they charged toward the caravan.

Vazerek snarled and practically flew to his first target, the woman wearing dark elven armor and wielding a sword and dagger. His swing was in an upward arc, swift and powerful, clashing with his foe's primary blade. The sheer strength of his attack shattered his enemy's sword as if it were glass, drilling through her block and smashing her upward, tossing her across the dirt road. He looked to the downed guard fearfully as he was struck with a lash of electricity.

His teammate was on him immediately, skewering him with his spear and forcing him into the dirt. He dragged him across the road for a good several yards before removing the blade from the enemy's body. The man gasped and coughed desperately, then became motionless within seconds.

Vazerek rushed over to the guard on the ground, assuming the worst. But before he could even ask if he needed help, the soldier was already on his feet. "Are you alright? You took a big fall and quite a hit."

There was a pitch black scar across the metal plate where the bolt of lightning had struck, but no blood or signs of pain. The eye sockets n the helmet were dark as well, making any reading of facial expressions impossible. The guard gave him little acknowledgement other than a nod in his general direction before picking up his shield and spear and walking off to his mount.

Vazerek felt unsure about allowing the guard to continue on without at least checking him for wounds, but dropped the matter quickly as his smooth walking showed no sign of injury.

With the safety of his ally confirmed, Vazerek's adrenaline slowly began to recede as the fight seemed to be over. Sliding his sword back into his sheathe, he approached the body of the black creature he had mistaken for a wolf. Anraya soon appeared near him, equally puzzled by the creature.

Crouching down, he grasped the collar wrapped around its neck, shifting the body to get a better look. "I've never seen anything like _this_ before. It looks like it could be a Daedric dog."

Anraya grimaced at how ugly the creature was. The collar however, looked very familiar, but she couldn't place the origin. "Take the collar. We can find out what it is when we get to the manor."

Removing the adornment from the creature's neck, he held it out for Anraya to take. Instead of the collar however, she grasped his wrist in alarm. "Vazerek, you're bleeding."

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**Next Chapter- Vazerek finally gets to chat with Anraya, and we learn of Ri' zedah's wealth potential.**

**Still taking request characters people! Throw yours in before its too late!**


	3. Patching Up

If Vazerek had a gold coin for the number of injuries hed had in his life time, he'd be the wealthiest cat in Skyrim. Even as a early adolescent, he towered over his adopted father, who often invited him to join him on hunting trips. He could hunt down wolves, saber cats, and occasional bears with nothing more than a steel dagger and a pair of leather pants and boots. Often the scuffles would lead to him getting gashes or sprained joints, which he could have easily ignored. But his step-mother, as worrisome as she was, always had him slime it with a health potion or a salve so it wouldn't get infected.

This was probably why Vazerek wanted Anraya's attention at first. She reminded him of his childhood with the way she was removing teeth from between his knuckles in the back of the caravan.

"I cant believe you didn't notice this." She scolded. Blood oozed from the torn flesh on his hand, staining hers. Removing the last tooth embedded within his hand, she placed it next to her on the small bit of leather she had laid out. "Most soldiers would ask for medical leave because of these kinds of wounds."

Ri' saad chuckled at the comment. "This one has learned that the Dragonborn is far different than any simple soldier."

Vazerek smirked smugly, "Yes, and I don't have a superior officer, so I don't have the luxury. Besides, I felt it. This would have healed on its own."

Anraya's eyebrows furrowed. "Probably would have gotten infected. It's frostbitten."

Surprised, he examined it. Indeed, the skin bordering the wound was visibly blue at least half an inch outward of its perimeter. "Well, that explains why I cant feel it much anymore."

"Good. Then this shouldn't hurt much." After wiping the blood off her hands with a rag, she reached into her pack and pulled out a small, bronze cylinder with two silver stripes on it.

Vazerek cocked his head to the side curiously. "Whats that?"

"Medicine." She said simply.

Vazerek watched as instead of uncorking the container or popping something off the top, like most containers, she twisted one side, making it rise upward until it finally came loose from the other. "That's an interesting container. Ive never seen anything like that."

She smiled, taking his wrist in her hand. "Ri' zedah is very creative." She stated while applying the pink, mud like salve against his wound.

Vazerek watched in amazement as the substance met his frostbitten flesh with a hissing sound, making smoke rise from the wound as if it was being burned. The blue dead flesh quickly shriveled and dried as smoke left it, reviving the lower layer to a soft pink. "He must be a very skilled alchemist," He said. "Is that how he managed his money?"

She looked at him suspiciously. "Is that really any of your business?"

Vazerek's eagerness at conversation dropped dramatically, and his eyes dropped back down to the healing wound on his hand. "Too personal. My mistake," he mumbled. Embarrassed, he took back his hand and tried to seem normal by examining the wound.

Anraya looked at the defeated cat and sighed, pulling out a small red health potion and uncorking it. "To be honest, I actually have no idea." She held out her hand, and after a moment, he returned his to her. She poured the liquid over the gash, making the flesh magically knit itself back together. "You'll have to ask him when we get there."

"Yeah. Okay." With his hand feeling no more pain, he flexed his fingers, checking for other issues. Finding none, his eyes connected to hers. "Thanks."

"Your welcome, Dragonborn." She said, beginning to putting her things away.

"Please, you can call me Vaz."

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With time passing rather slowly, Anraya found herself examining one of the teeth that had been lodged into Vaz's hand. "Why would a daedric dog be with humans?" She asked aloud. She waited for someone to answer, only to see everyone else in the caravan asleep, except for Vaz, who was gazing at the passing scenery. "Vaz?"

He snapped to attention. "Hm? Im sorry, were you talking to me?"

"You _are _the only one awake here besides me." She told him.

"This one disagrees." Khayla declared from behind the caravan.

Anraya knew the horse could have followed the other two on its own, she knew how smart it was. Still, she apologized before turning back to Vazerek. "You mentioned earlier that the creature you killed was a Daedric dog. How could humans get control of one?

"They must have been in an alliance with the daedra. They looked too young to be masters and conjuration."

"But only one? Wouldnt they get around ten, or a hundred?"

A hundred daedric dogs. Gods, that would have left much more than one scar. "I think there would have needed an army of mages to get a hundred. Ten... I think that's possible. Maybe they put together a small clan or did some recruiting for the resources then split the product."

"The daedra would do that, just... sell their minions?"

"They probably had to give away their souls first. Welcome to daedric business."

She giggled. "Thats one way to _keep your customers."_

Vaz gave a short laugh. "Either way, we'll figure it out when we get to the mansion."

"After the party, right?"

Vaz couldnt tell if that was an invitation or just a timing question, but went along with it by answering both. "Sure. After the party."

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**OMG did she just ask him on a date? :p They were sitting down, so its no wonder she doesnt find him scary... for now...**

**Next chapter: We learn about the Bronze-Iron Estate and some of its guards, among other things.**


	4. The Mzuranshall

**I am well aware that this story is not nearly as good as my other one, mainly because these characters are not as well thought out as those that have already been created. For those pro writers who can toss any decent advice to me, be my guest. **

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Anraya smiled, amused by the reactions of the surrounding khajiit, of whom were all staring at her ship. She wore the cocky smile as she crossed the boarding plank onto the vessel. "Are you cats coming?" She teased.

The khajiit exchanged expectant glances, as if daring each other to board the ship. They had every right to be untrustworthy of the boats legitimacy. It had no sail whatsoever, and appeared to be made almost entirely from dwemer metal. No boat was ever known to have such a design, and any that did probably sunk as soon as they took their first voyage.

But judging from the marks and dents on the sides of the hull, the ship had seen many voyages and battles overseas… and won every time. Which was more than enough for Vaz. He picked up his three bags of gear from the caravan, and boarded the ship. The other cats eventually followed his lead, carrying bags full of their merchandise. Each one had to show their invitation to the guard captain, an orc armored in a suit of dwemer metal.

An Imperial called from the helm at the top deck of the ship, "All aboard! Last call for the Mzuranshall to the Bronze Iron Estate!" Several lost khajiit heard the call and scrambled for the ship, and finally, the boarding plank was removed and the anchor lifted. A sharp whistle sounded that startled almost everyone except the people that arrived with the boat. Then several hisses of steam could be heard, and the ship began moving.

With all the people on the ship, some of the khajiit set up tents on the upper decks. It didn't seem to bother them very much, as they were used to sleeping outside. A few even seemed to prefer it. Soon, much of the top deck was filled with conversing cats, some casting out fishing lines into the water, others trading amongst each other. Two young cubs were fighting with their wooden swords, and one well groomed khajiit barber was styling a young girls mane.

Vaz tried approaching some of the Cathay- Rahts, but felt rather awkward doing so. The others of his breed were, by khajiit standards, "normal." Elsweyrian accents, vocabulary, hairstyles, and clothes. Vaz, in comparison, looked like a creature from the wild. Even as he walked amongst the khajiit, most would stop what they were doing and stare at him as if he should be wearing a leash. The barber, however, looked at him like he was a canvas ready to made into a masterpiece.

Thankfully, he was called away to the lower decks by Anraya. She lead him into a small storage deck filled with barrels, crates and a few chests. There were also several mannequins donned with dwemer armor like every guard of Anraya's he had seen.

"You can keep your things down here with the cargo," she told him as she took a couple of apples from one of the barrels. She turned to the khajiit, who seemed to be entranced by the armor covered mannequins. "Vaz?"

"Hm?" He turned his attention to the wood elf. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me?"

"Are you feeling okay?" She handed him one of the apples.

"Yeah, its just…" He glanced suspiciously at the mannequins as if they were about to move. He sighed, setting aside the ludicrous idea on his mind. "I assume Ri' zedah must really like the dwemer theme. Am I right?"

"Well, I don't know if he prefers dwemer things, but he uses it a lot, that's for sure." A smug grin grew onto her face. "Why? Does that bother you, Dragonborn?"

"No its just… hard to tell who is who when almost all of your guards never talk." He said as he set his bags down near one of the crates. He returned his eyes to Anraya, who was giving him a skeptical stare. "What?"

"Aw, the poor kitty's dwemer-phobic," the wood elf teased, taking a bite out of her apple.

"What? No! Your guards show no emotion! Its like they're robots themselves!" He suddenly realized how loud he had been when Anraya's eyes widened in shock and she moved away from him.

"There's no reason to be so defensive about it. It was a joke." She said seriously, but quietly, like she was afraid loud noises would freak him out. There was an odd almost silent pause. The music had stopped on the upper deck, evident he was much louder than he had meant to be.

Vaz took a deep breath and sat down on one of the crates. "I.. Sorry. I'm kind of on edge right now." He quickly took a chunk of half his apple in a single bite, swallowing it with almost no time for chewing it.

"Are you okay?" Anraya never left the door, remaining ready to make a break for it if necessary.

Vaz sighed. "Yes. I think I'm just really hungry." He tore into the rest of his apple, not even leaving a core.

"You get aggressive when you're hungry? You should have told me."

A male voice called from the staircase leading to the upper deck. "Anraya! Lass, are you okay?"

The two locked eyes for a moment, then Vaz look down at the floor out of embarrassment for his outburst. "Yes, I'm fine."

"That werewolf giving you problems?"

Vaz made an amused grunt of a laugh, never taking his eyes off the floor. Anraya smiled. "No! He just hit his head on the ceiling!"

"Well… Okay. I'm keeping a guard in the hallway, though!"

"Okay! That's fine!" She walked over to him, cautiously, before sitting down on a chest across from him. She had never expected someone like him look so… upset with himself.

"Your not really hungry, are you?"

He sighed again. "No."

There was another silent moment between them. "So if you aren't dwemer-phobic…"

He smirked. "That was actually kind of funny."

She smiled sympathetically. "Will you tell me what you are dealing with? It seems serious."

"You probably wont like the answer."

"It cant be that bad. Do you just have anger issues or something?"  
"Can you keep a secret?"

Anraya remembered that question from her childhood, when her and her friends traded secrets to each other as both a trust bond and blackmailing method that they were trusted not to use. "How about we trade skeletons? A secret for a secret."

"Deal," he said quietly.

His eyes were still on the floor, and was beginning to get annoying. "Can you look at me when we are talking? It makes me feel like I'm ugly or something."

He looked up to her obediently. He looked much calmer now, with his eyes less cutely dilated. "You are far from ugly."

"Aw. Thank you. You have pretty eyes."

His confidence grew a little at the compliment. "Thanks. So, you really want to know what my issue is?" She nodded. "I have some kind of male hormone imbalance."

"That's it? That doesn't seem so bad."

"You would be surprised. My body has a trading system with my mind. I get this whole superior warrior body and in exchange, I have to compensate with my lifestyle."

"I still don't see what's so bad about that."

"My mind is effected dramatically. Its an almost unhealthy increase in male hormones and if I don't do anything about it, it makes me aggressive."

"Oh. So how do you take care of it?"

"Well, I've tried medicine, but nothing works because my body seems to compensate for the hormone loss. So I really have three methods that always work. Overeating, working myself to exhaustion, or the other method…"

"Which is?" She urged him to continue.

"I think that's enough of my secrets. What's yours?"

"Hey! No fair!" Anraya declared like an upset child. "You cant just leave me hanging like that. What's the third method?"

"I really shouldn't tell you."

"Please? You've already trusted me with a lot so far."  
Vaz licked his teeth and looked down again in embarrassment. "I masturbate."

To Vazerek's surprise, she giggled. "Why are you so secretive about this? You act like men never do that."

His eyes were on her once more. "But I have to do it every week! At this point my urges are just a nuisance!"

"If it bugs you that much, ask one of the khajiit upstairs to help you. You look like an above average khajiit. I can bet at least one of them would have you if you showed off your muscles a little."

"I rather wouldn't do that."

"What? Why not?" She questioned.

"I'm not a one night stand cat. I want to at least be in a relationship with the woman I'm doing it with."

"You want to get married first?"

"No, I just want them to have some kind of romantic connection with me. Mating for connection and not urges is what separates us from animals."

There was yet another silent pause between them, however the chatter and music had restored itself. "Who ever gets you will be lucky," She complimented quietly.

He sat up straight and smiled widely at her, stretching his back. "Thank you. Maybe if I survive killing off all the dragons and the civil war you can help me get a nice girl for myself."

"That sounds like easy fun. So, you want to hear my secret?"

He nodded. "Sure."

"There is a good reason why most of the guards seem lifeless."

Vaz cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "Go on."

She stood up and walked over to the armor mannequin. She reached into the left boot and pulled out an odd looking amulet with a brightly colored stone in the center. "All of this gear is enchanted. They link together to make an atronach," she explained. She placed the amulet over the mannequins helmet and let it slide under the armored chest plate. She stepped back, "A-five. Please get me some garlic bread from storage."

Vaz watched in awe as the mannequin bowed to her and walked over to a barrel, pulled out a single loaf of bread and walked back to Anraya, handing it to her. She turned to him and nearly laughed at his amazed eyes. "Still hungry?"

* * *

**Next Chapter: Not entirely sure what happens. Ideas would be helpful. Right now Im considering Vaz trying to mingle with his people and Anraya helping him out or they finally reach the Bronze-Iron Estate. Still,Ideas would really help right now.**


	5. Mingling

**Eh... I somewhat approve of this. Could still use some advice from the pro writers though, :p**

* * *

Vaz felt rather uncomfortable sitting amongst all of the other khajiit, and even less so in clothes instead armor. Anraya had insisted his wardrobe be less "warrior" and more "civilian," saying it would help him "mingle with his people." But the apparel seemed to be irrelevant, since a half drunken Ri'saad seemed intent on bragging to all of the others of how he knew the Dragonborn.

"This khajiit, this _werewolf_ is the person Ri'saad has been speaking of," he declared as he sat down, like he was announcing the appearance of a noble.

One of the cathay-raht sitting on the floor asked aloud, "_This_ is the Dragonborn?"

One of the females in rather exotic clothing spoke up cheerfully. "The khajiit get a Dragonborn? This one thinks our people have been given quite a gift."

"And a handsome one at that," purred one of the other khajiit women. Almost all of the females giggled or smiled, and Anraya had the face of_ I told you so._

Several of the males, however, were more threatened than joyful. "This one doesn't believe it." One of them declared. "Aren't the Dragonborn able to speak as if they were dragons themselves?"

"Its called the Thu'um." Anraya commented. Vaz looked at her, surprised to learn she knew anything about the Dragonborn or the Voice.

"Yes. If what this drunken merchant says is true, call flames from the skies, or make your words boom from every angle. Prove to these people you have the soul of a dragon."

"I don't need to prove anything to _you_," Vaz hissed defensively.

Anraya looked at him worriedly. "Come now, Dragonborn. Whats one shout to the heavens?" She encouraged, placing her hand on his arm. Her actions seemed to calm him a little, and he looked back at her with a calmer face. But his eyes were still narrowed in irritation. "It'll be fun."

The other khajiit joined in, with both words of scorn and praise. "Summon a dragon!"

"He cant do it, the merchant is just a drunk that has had too many Absinthe shots."

"This one will bed you if you do it!" Vaz looked at the female who said that with surprised eyes as did several other people. Soon, three other women offered their bodies as well.

"Alright. Alright. No one has to have sex with me. I'll do it." The small crowd cheered as he stood up and walked to the guard rail at the edge of the deck. The khajiit followed, standing along the rail side by side. The children, lured in by the commotion, were picked up by their parents so they could see over the railing. A little girl was picked up by Anraya, as she was unable to find her mother and father amongst the crowd.

There was silence, and Vaz took the moment take a deep breath.

"_FUS RO DAH!_" His Thu'um boomed out into the sea, shocking some of the khajiit that were wondering why there was silence before it. The force of his shout made a ring of blue light fly through the air in the direction he shouted in, and into the ocean. The water shifted as a wave was moved to an entirely different direction before scattering from the strength of his voice.

The khajiit crowd were stunned for a moment, and then the children cheered. "Awesome! He's really the Dragonborn!"

Most of the khajiit gave applause to the display, but a few of the males simply growled and walked away to go about their business. Vaz's tail began swishing back and forth wildly, and Anraya could hear hear a low rumble in his throat, like a territorial saber cat.

She put down the little girl, who had seen her parents come up from the lower deck and ran off to them. She nudged him with her elbow gently to get his attention, "Hey, don't let them get to your head. You know they are just jealous kittens who want the attention you are getting from the ladies."

The growling stopped but his tail continued its movements. "I know. I think this hormone rush is getting to my head. I'm usually not provoked this easily."

Anraya frowned. "I was hoping shouting would calm you down…"

"Yes, well… Thanks for trying to help," He said earnestly.

* * *

As night fell, Anraya had noticed that the majority of males on the ship chose to remain at least a few feet from Vaz, like he was an active threat. Considering how he yelled at her earlier, and how he revealed he was the Dragonborn, that wasn't very surprising. But then wouldn't everyone want to stay away from him? The males avoided him, but the women seemed to flock to him, and somewhat appear to act out when Vaz's attention was on one of them for extended periods of time. Could they possibly _smell_ the hormones on him? Was that why they were all near him? Hormones giving them the urge to mate with the alpha male?

Whatever the answer was, he seemed calmer in this situation, so she chose to take a break from being his self-appointed stress monitor and go to bed.

Yawning, she got up to leave, but Vaz stopped her with a gentle grip on her arm. For a second, the khajiit around them seemed alarmed. "Hey, you aren't going to bed already are you?"

"Yes. I'm not nocturnal like khajiit, Vaz." She noticed the stares around them, an could almost taste the awkward.

He could feel it too, and released her quickly. "Are you sure? Its barely past sundown."

"Yeah, I'm sure the party will survive without me. The party _does_ have a Dragonborn after all," She answered with a smile.

"Oh… okay," He sounded disappointed, "See you tomorrow, then."

"Sure. Good night, everyone," She called out, before walking off. Some people waved or returned the gesture, but Vaz couldn't help but watch her hips sway as she walked to the stairs to the lower decks.

* * *

**0.0 Seems the alpha be getting frisky for that tiny wood elf. XD**

**Next Chapter: Still unsure. Likely we go to the Bronze Iron Estate and meet a few OC's that were designed by a few friends.**


End file.
